


It Wasn't Supposed To Happen

by whimseyrhodes



Category: Leverage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 03:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimseyrhodes/pseuds/whimseyrhodes
Summary: Eliot and Parker meet Hardison's Nana for the worst reason ever.





	It Wasn't Supposed To Happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ziazippy5379](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziazippy5379/gifts).



> For ziazippy5379, I hope you enjoy your gift!  
> Notes at end contain SPOILERS!!  
> Rated M for a few bad words. I’m gonna blame it on Eliot’s potty-mouth because of course, _I_ never swear. *blink, blink*
> 
> Prompts used were:
> 
> * Two of the Ot3 mourning the loss of the third  
> * Someone just keeps pulling out more relatives from somewhere

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” came Parker’s small voice. There was no recrimination in the words, but Eliot heard it anyway. “It wasn’t supposed to be _him_ first.”

Eliot winced at the words, knowing she was right. It was supposed to be the hitter, the brawler, the fighter, who died first. The one who knew that he would die protecting his lovers. It should have been Eliot who died.

Not the most vulnerable of their trio. Not Hardison.

*******

It had been a muggy day, the air charged with electricity. It was an odd day in November, one that was unseasonably warm in Portland even with the hard frost that had covered the ground that morning. The sun had come out in force, bouncing off of the mountains and creating a false sense of summer.

That heat was the only thing that remained at the end of the day to warm Parker and Eliot as they reached the edge of the rubble, Lucille buried in the middle.

A simple job, or so they thought, with nothing going wrong until the very end. Something should have set Eliot’s Spidey senses off. In hindsight though, even though he reviewed every moment backwards and forwards, over and over, he couldn’t find anything that would have given him warning of the clusterfuck that was about to happen.

Sometime, _somehow_ , someone had gotten close enough to Lucille to plant a bomb. How they’d gotten past Hardison’s tech, he didn’t know. Only the hacker would have been able to tell him, so he’d never know now.

Wrapping his arm around Parker, he felt her jerk away. It was the first time she’d ever done that. Dropping his arm, he blinked at her before looking down.

“Not leaving,” she sniffed. “Not leaving him.”

“Parker,” he sighed. They were sitting on a stretcher in the ambulance with oxygen masks on, courtesy of the harsh smoke that still wafted through the area. The fire had been put out, but they’d been breathing it, uncaring, as they scrabbled to find Hardison.

The site was crawling with police, firefighters and EMS, and the two of them had been forcibly pulled from the rubble and taken to the ambulances, their hands burnt raw and bloody from digging desperately at the rocks and concrete. Three burly firefighters watched them as the EMTs tended their hands to make sure they didn’t bolt back into the debris like they already had numerous times.

*******

Later, Eliot had been the one to discover Hardison’s will. It was on his computer, on the hard drive. He felt a tiny spark of accomplishment at being able to find it and nearly turned around to gloat at the hacker before feeling the stabbing pain of memory: he’d never be able to gloat at Hardison again.

Parker had disappeared the moment they were back at the Brew Pub. A police officer had given them a ride home, since they’d left in the van, after all. But once through the front doors the thief had taken off, and he had yet to find her. 

So it fell to Eliot to inform and console the staff and close the Pub for the unforeseeable future, make arrangements with a funeral home even though they didn’t have definitive identification of the body yet, and call Nate and Sophie (and _damn_ but that had been hard).

Now he sat staring at the phone, knowing his next call had to be to Hardison’s Nana. Sophie had given him a few pointers in their shared grief, after he’d wailed that he didn’t know how to tell someone their son was gone, but now, all cried out and dry-eyed, he couldn’t remember a word she’d said.

*******

Eventually Parker slid out of the shadows. In the middle of the night she glommed onto Eliot in the middle of their now way-too-big bed like she’d never let him go.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his ear an hour later. He could hear the tears she had shed in the raspiness of her voice.

“For what?” he asked, confused.

“For pulling away…from you,” she answered with a hiccup.

“It should have been me.”

He wasn’t expecting the slap to his face. “ _NO!_ ” she yelled. “It’s not gonna be you! You’re not gonna leave me, too!!”

He sat up at her sudden outburst, grabbing onto her arms and trying to hold her still. “Parker! Parker, darlin’! I’m not leaving you!”

As unexpected as the slap was Parker launching herself into his chest so hard he fell backwards into the pillow with a grunt. He laid there with her curled into him, her fingers clawed into his chest and his arms around her shaking shoulders as they cried.

When they could finally breathe without bursting into another sobbing jag, they laid exhausted on the bed, watching the sun rise without interest.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” came Parker’s small voice. There was no recrimination in the words, but Eliot heard it anyway. “It wasn’t supposed to be _him_ first.”

“I know,” he whispered, cradling her head in his hand. “God, I know.”

“We were supposed to go to Disneyworld. He was going to take me on all the rides. He said so. And you, too. He said he was going to drag you by the hair if he had to.”

Eliot snorted, knowing that was something that Hardison definitely would have said. “He wanted to take us to a ComicCon, too,” he admitted to her. “Had costumes and everything. Boba Fett, Han Solo and Princess Leia. Said that we’d win first place.”

Parker sniffled at that, tears wanting to come, but she had nothing left. The hours spent in the ductwork crying and sobbing had wrung nearly everything out of her, and the last hours with Eliot had drained the rest.

“I called Nana.”

She lifted her head in surprise at that. 

“And Nate and Soph. They’re gonna come.”

Dropping back down onto the hitter’s broad chest, she curled closer. “I didn’t think about that,” she admitted with a whimper. “I don’t know….I don’t know how this works. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. What. What a….a _normal_ person would do.”

“Cry,” Eliot said simply. “It’s okay to cry. To breakdown at the dumbest thing. To think that you have to tell H… to tell him something and only remember afterwards that he’s…he’s… _gone_ ,” he choked, needing to explain grief to her while in the deep pit of it himself. “It’s gonna take a long time. Weeks, months….years, maybe,” he swallowed. “Before anything seems…normal….again.”

“That long?” She was silent for a long time. “Why?”

“Because we loved him,” Eliot hiccuped again. “ _So fucking much._ ”

*******

Nate and Sophie flew into Portland the next day, and the four of them flew to St. Louis that evening. Landing at the airport, they rented a car and drove out to the small suburb where Nana lived.

It was a small house, but comfortable. Hardison had set her up very comfortably with his skills, and with Nana’s inclination to order, it was immaculate.

They were made as welcome as family with warm hugs, plied with hot cocoa, and soon ensconced in the living room, children of every size and color coming and going in a confusing parade. 

“This is Stephen,” Nana introduced a young asian boy, about four. She was sitting in an overstuffed wing-back chair, a well worn pillow behind her back and a tulip printed apron tied over her dress. “Alec always wrote every month, making sure he did his math sums.” Stephen wriggled out of Nana’s grip and escaped behind the chair, and the woman just held her hand out for the next child.

“And this is Abigail. She’s just turned seven, and is learning to play the flute. Alec sent her a pretty silver one for her birthday just last week.”

Abigail blushed and grabbed the hand of a taller girl. “I’m Teresa,” the older one said politely. “And this is…um,” she started, looking to her right as another child scurried out of the room. “That _was_ Eric, my brother. He’s only three.”

Eliot and the others greeted each child with a nod and a handshake, every one of the children polite but shy. A few of the older ones were red-eyed and somber, but the younger ones still had the air of innocence to them.

“How many of them _are_ there?” Parker hissed into Eliot’s ear after the sixth introduction.

“I have no idea,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

“We had no idea that, um….” Nate started, hearing their exchange.

“What my husband is trying to say,” Sophie continued in the embarrassing lull, her hand soothing on Nate’s arm, “was that we didn’t know Alec had such a wonderfully large family.”

“Well, seems like there’s a new one every time I look around, bless them,” Nana said with a smile. “The younger ones, some of them, haven’t met Alec. I mean…. _hadn’t_ ,” she corrected herself. Reaching for a tissue on the side table, she daubed at her eyes. “Most of the older ones though, they knew him.”

“He always spoke o….” Eliot started before nearly choking on his tongue. “….alec…?” he squawked as he saw the dark shadow in the doorway.

Parker shot to her feet, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she fought to hold herself still. Eliot stood a minute later, sliding his arms around her. She was quaking like a deer.

It was like a dream, seeing the tall man come into the room, the expression on his face nothing like, and yet exactly like, Hardison.

“Jake,” the man said, holding out his hand. “Jake Talley, I’m…I _was_ …Alec’s twin.”

“Jesus,” Eliot breathed.

“No, _Jake_.” Parker elbowed him, and Jake and the others laughed a little, breaking the tension.

“Yeah, I know…it’s…it’s a shock,” Nana said as the lanky Jake stepped up behind her chair, his big hands resting on her frail shoulders. “I only found out…about Jake, a few months ago. Alec called and told me, said he’d been checking into his adoption records. How he got into them, I don’t know, but you know….knew him, could get anything out of those computers of his.” Her hands wrapped around themselves in her flowered lap. “It’s too bad that the first time I meet Jake, Alec’s not the one to introduce him.”

“Nana, Ellie and Hayden are here,” Jake said softly, bending down a little. “They wanna know if it’s alright if they bring Mikey in and put him down in the back bedroom.”

Nate’s brows went up at the mention of yet three more relatives as the old woman nodded, and Jake left the room.

“They come out of the woodwork at times like these,” Nana said. “Only time I see everyone is at reunions or….” She sighed, looking out the window. “St. Bethel’s is gonna be a little crowded, come tomorrow.”

*******

The church was indeed crowded. Nana was a well known and loved member of the little community, and her support system was vast. People came from nearly every corner of the city, some coming from out of town but the majority from close by. There were more than a few gasps at Jake’s presence, but after the first few hours the news of Alec’s twin seemed to travel.

Jake himself stayed out of the way, quietly hanging on the periphery of the group, seemingly not wanting to disrupt the gathering for his brother. He acted so unlike Hardison that after a while, it became almost easy to ignore the man. 

Not so much for Eliot and Parker, however. Each time his eyes drifted over the crowd, Eliot had a jolt when he saw the dark, beloved face. He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from bolting over and hugging the crap out of Jake, and by the tension in Parker’s shoulders, he knew she felt the same way. So much so that a few times they actually bumped into each other as they started forward only to come up short at a painful reminder that Jake wasn’t Alec.

Sometimes it was a soft sob that caught their attention, sometimes a memory brought up by the preacher that stayed their feet. Parker had curled up in a ball in Eliot’s lap during the ceremony but now, at the graveside, she stood with her back to the casket, her face buried in the hitter’s shirt. Her sobs were silent, but they shook her tiny frame to the core.

More than a few spoke at the cemetery, but Eliot and Parker stayed silent. Even now, they couldn’t reveal their life with the hacker, either personal or professional, because of the constant threat to Nana and the children if it were ever found out who and what Hardison had been.

Finally, everyone seemed to run out of words and the voices fell silent. The only sounds were soft sniffling and dirt falling as the handfuls were dropped into the hole, and long-stemmed roses drifting onto the casket until it was covered with flowers.

With sad glances back, the team followed the rest of the mourners as the procession left the grave. On his last glance, Eliot saw Jake standing beside the tombstone, his big hand resting on the granite. Tears rolled unchecked down the other man’s face and the hitter choked back yet another sob as he helped Parker into the limo.

*******

Nate and Sophie had stayed at the Brewpub for three days until Eliot finally drove them out. Sophie’s constant mothering was stomping on burnt nerves, Nate’s drinking wasn’t helping, and Parker was a ghost. He didn’t blame the other two, but he needed them gone so that he could concentrate on making sure Parker was okay.

It took another day for her to slide out of the basement vents. He’d started to get nervous that morning and already investigated the first and second floors, leaving the basement the only vents unchecked. Returning to the apartment for a bottle of water after checking the roof, he found the thief sitting cross-legged on the kitchen prep-table, her black skull cap dusty and a smear of soot across her cheekbone and under her nose. She looked so lost that he didn’t even think of scolding her for sitting on his counter.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said quietly.

She shook her head and didn’t look up. “What happens now?” she asked in a small voice. “What do people do after…after they plant people?”

Her question was so oddly Parker that he almost didn’t have to think. “We go on.”

“ _How_?” Her eyes flicked up, her brows furrowed hard before dropping her head again.

Eliot shrugged. “Wake up. Eat. Work out, do a job. Go to sleep. Repeat.”

“But…” Her head tilted in her confusion, a myriad of expressions flitting across her face as she tried to understand his words. “I don’t…I…”

“Hun, I don’t know how anyone else does it, but that’s the way I do it.” He padded across the floor until he was standing in front of her. “You just… You just go on. Somehow. If you need to go somewhere else, I understand. If you just want to curl up in bed for the next month, I get that, too.”

Her shining eyes finally looked at him, tears rolling down her cheeks again. She made no move to brush them away anymore. “I don’t want to…. _anything_ ….”

“I know that, too,” he whispered, folding her into his chest and holding onto her, his strong arms wrapped around her back as he buried his face into her neck. “Believe me, I know that, too.”

*******

That evening a knock sounded on the door. Eliot and Parker had finished another Chinese take-out since he had absolutely no ambition to cook anymore. They looked at each other wanly and Eliot was about to just ignore it, but then the person spoke.

“Hey, El,” the familiar sounding voice said, and the hitter clenched his fists before getting to his feet. “Hey, man, open up. We gotta talk.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eliot snapped as he opened to door to see Jake. “You don’t _ever_ call me that.”

“Yeah, yeah okay,” Jake said, backing down from the hitter’s ire. “But really, we all gotta talk.” He glanced around. “Can I come in?”

Reluctantly Eliot stepped back, his heart clenching as Hardison’s twin stepped forward. He caught a whiff of cologne and swallowed. Shit, Jake even _smelled_ like Hardison.

Eliot followed Jake as he entered the apartment and walked slowly past the living room. “Parker, Jake wants to talk to us about….something,” he said, coming around the couch. Motioning for Jake to take the chair opposite the couch, he sank into the cushion beside the thief, feeling her lean into him.

They waited expectantly as Jake coughed nervously, shifting on the seat. “Man, where to start…” he muttered.

“How ‘bout at the beginning?” Eliot growled again.

“See, see, I knew you were gonna say that, man.” He sounded so much like the hacker that Parker grabbed onto Eliot’s hand, tension running between them.

“Okay. The beginning.” Jake took a deep breath and calmed himself. “ ‘Bout two years ago, I, aah… _Alec_ hacked something he shouldn’ta. You know how he gets, all intense and focused, doesn’t stop til he passes out.”

Eliot chewed on his lip, wondering how Jake would know that if they’d only met a few months ago according to Nana. Hardison must have hidden the knowledge of his twin from her, too.

“Anyway, he got the attention of some pretty nasty guys, some mob…”

Eliot swore and cut him off. “Sunova _bitch. DAMMIT, Hardison!_ I’m gonna dig him up and strangle him!” Parker’s head whipped around and she stared at him wide-eyed.

“It’s okay, mama, I know how it sounds,” Jake said, and both thieves looked at him with angry, narrowed eyes until he backed up on the chair and held up his hands. “Sorry! Sorry, lemme guess, don’t call you that?”

Eliot simply growled.

“Right. Right. Oh, hell. This is harder than I thought.” He took a deep breath. “Hardisonisntdead.”

Eliot and Parker blinked, for a moment not understanding the slur of words, but then not understanding the meaning when it dawned on them.

“I ain’t dead, boo’s,” Jake/Alec said. 

“You…” Eliot bit out. “You…you can’t…”

“But, the police….the _body_ ,” Parker breathed.

“Naw, there _was_ no body,” the other man said. “I hacked into records and made it all up. Sent a sealed casket to the morgue, made ‘em think there was something inside and they just signed off on it. Ya’ll buried a bunch ‘o rocks.”

“H… _Why_?” the hitter asked.

“Like I said. I got into a wee bit of a bind. Remember the Mosconi’s?” Hardison said. “He had an uncle who had a cousin who had…”

“A mountain goat who had a tattoo, yeah, yeah,” Eliot snapped. “Get on with it!”

“Geez, touchy, much?” Hardison smiled a little. “Okay, Mr. Punchy. Money laundering, mob, a couple shifty accountants….it all adds up to Hardison getting caught red-handed, which will never, I say _never_ happen again, and well…. The best thing I could think of was that Hardison had to die.”

“But us? Why didn’t you _tell_ us?” Parker was on the edge of tears again.

At that Hardison looked almost broken. “It had to be real,” he said softly. “There were people at the funeral…”

And thinking back, Eliot remembered them. A couple of teenagers on the fringes of the group, studying Jake. A middle aged woman who no one seemed to know watching Nana.

“I created Jake years ago, just in case. Told Nana about it a couple of months ago just to get the history, I never meant her to actually meet…well, _him_.”

He looked at the other two, really _looked_ at them, seeing the hope in their eyes battling with perceived reality, the tension in their hands as they clutched at each other.

“Hey, we buried Soph _twice_ , aaaaand me once too, but I ain’t countin’ that.” That seemed to shake them out of their hesitation.

“It’s me, guys. I’m really here.” Hardison smiled and held out his arms.

“Dammit, Hardison!” Eliot and Parker both yelled before launching themselves at him so hard the chair tipped over backwards.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I simply could NOT kill off any of my perfect OT3 as requested, but I’m hoping I got the angst wanted and also another of her prompts.
> 
> Also note: I couldn’t remember if they actually said where Nana was from, so I just made that up. Any screw-ups on continuity are all mine.


End file.
